


Two hours of peace

by Remus_Lupins_Chocolate



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Fluff, Let them have some peace, M/M, Oh to lie on the sofa and listen to the mama mia soundtrack with my significant other, Simon and Baz lie on a sofa together, This is slightly out of character but I Won’t apologise, that is legitimately it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remus_Lupins_Chocolate/pseuds/Remus_Lupins_Chocolate
Summary: Before he sat with me — on me — Baz waved his wand towards a docking station in the corner and used ‘thank you for the music’ to get it to play whatever it was that was already lined up. He doesn’t like ABBA. I said as much but he just mumbled something about them being useful. When the soundtrack for Mama Mia! started playing I nearly laughed. Baz just huffed and dropped onto the sofa with me.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Two hours of peace

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted this on tumblr back In May and somehow completely forgot to post it to ao3 so nearly nine months later I come baring this. The mama Mia soundtrack is a very comforting things, and this was definitely written in the middle of the night.

**Simon**

Baz has his face pressed into my stomach. We’re on the sofa in the living room which the rest of his family almost completely neglects— Daphne doesn’t like the kids going in here because the furniture is all too expensive to be damaged. Baz said that she’d be okay with the two of them being in there because he was careful and even though I’m really not he said Daphne doesn’t know me well enough to know that. I think everyone knows me well enough to know I could shatter a styrofoam cup just by looking at it.

There’s a chance Baz is asleep. We’ve been lying on this sofa for an hour and he’s barely moved since we sat down. Or, since I sat down with my my legs across the sofa, and he dropped on top of my legs. Eventually, he ended up laying between them. With his face shoved into my stomach. It can’t be comfortable. His arms are pushing into his chest and my legs at odd angles, and I’m not entirely sure how easy it can be for him to breath given that his nose feels smushed into me.

I can’t hear anyone but him. The house is huge though, so I’m not surprised. When we left everyone they were in the kitchen, at the opposite end of the house. Fiona and Malcom had started gently arguing, Daphne was trying to feed her youngest children, and Mordelia _looked_ like she wanted to leave as soon as she could. It’s not like I can say something about that though because, as much as I like Baz’s family, they’re a lot. He dragged me out the second Fiona raised her voice a little above a whisper and Mordelia jumped in with whatever opinion she had on the situation. I think maybe Baz lied when I asked how old she was. No seven year old I’ve met before has known literally anything about politics— but I’ve mostly only met Normal kids. And this family is as far from Normal as it gets.

Before he sat with me — _on_ me — Baz waved his wand towards a docking station in the corner and used _**thank you for the music**_ to get it to play whatever it was that was already lined up. He doesn’t like ABBA. I said as much but he just mumbled something about them being useful. When the soundtrack for Mama Mia! started playing I nearly laughed. Baz just huffed and dropped onto the sofa with me.

My hands have been sat awkwardly at my sides for the entire hour we’ve been sat doing nothing, and I’m starting to get a little bit restless. Even though my wings are stretched out behind me as limply as I can hold them and I’m trying not to flap them and break anything, it’s not like I can trust myself. It’s impossible for me to stay still for very long now. Penny thinks that it’s because I can’t use my magic at the moment and that because I had so much that was constantly bubbling to the surface I technically was never doing absolutely nothing. Now that’s not happening I find it harder to stay still. Apparently. Penny thinks so.

I move my hands to Baz’s hair, running my fingers through it carefully so that I have something to do with them. So that I don’t accidentally knock the vase on the sideboard behind me onto the floor and break it. Fingers don’t catch a single knot. After a few minutes I mostly stop moving my hand out of annoyance. Even if I brushed my hair ten times a day there it would still be impossible to get a brush straight through it. Also, it’s not like I’m a very gentle person, and I don’t want to wake him up. He hasn’t been sleeping much, and I keep waking up in the middle of the night only to see he’s stood next to his open window looking out. One of my fingers is still softly twirling a strand of hair around it, hopefully too softly for him to feel it.

He stirs a little bit in my lap, face pressing against my stomach harder than it had been and also leaning his head back into one of my hands a little. Baz twists around to look at me and I sigh deeply. He pouts a little bit and copies my sigh. “Why did you stop?” I can hear the pout as he speaks. It’s even more pronounced in his voice than it is on his face.

“Thought you were asleep.”

“I’m never asleep.” His hand reaches up and holds mine against his head to coax me into moving it again.

“You’re like a cat.” I think this a lot. He does act like a cat. The fact that he pretended to hate me and acted like I was the worst person in the world when he was actually obsessed with me only backs it up. One of the homes I went to had a cat, which is how I know they’re weird like that. She scratched my hand when I was trying to give her attention, then when I didn’t she followed me around meowing.

“Cats are evil, Snow.” My hand is back to stroking Baz’s hair, trying to run my fingers through it even though most of it is now wedged between in his head and my stomach. My thumb gently brushes against his cheekbone. It almost seems like he leans into the touch.

I think I’m smiling at him. Have I been smiling at him the whole time? There’s a chance I have. All I’ve done for an hour is watch him as he rested on my stomach while he apparently wasn’t sleeping. Penny says I’m always smiling at him now, but I always say it’s not true. We barely spend time actually together now. He’s at Watford, I’m at Penny’s or Agatha’s. Even if all the while I am thinking about being at Watford with him. “You’re evil.” I retort, cupping his cheek in my hand. This time he is definitely pressing his face into it.

“Maybe.” Then he shrugs, which is awkward from the way he’s lying and somehow his hair ends up caught under him in the motion and we have to move away from each other so that he can sort it out. My legs are still on the sofa, and he’s kneeling between them. Baz uses a hair tie on his wrist to pull back the shoulder length hair in to a bun. It’s horrifically messy, and I can already tell half of it must be still falling out over the back of his neck. Usually he’d look in the mirror and fix it, but he just rearranged himself to have his legs either side of mine then falls heavily against my chest. Somehow he manages to push his arms to be hugging me around the middle and I want to laugh. Baz is not clingy.

“You’re being weird.” I say, allowing his head to tuck under my chin and wrapping my arms around him.

He digs his nails into the base of where my wings join to my back, where his finger tips ended up resting. Not so hard, just enough that it twinges for the second he holds them there. When he loosens his grip again the feeing is gone. “I feel weird. Constantly. The house is too full.” The house isn’t full. There are nine people in it and it could fit a bit over twenty five. I’ve been in care homes with this many people in that barely had room for seven. I don’t say anything though. “I just want to be somewhere with you.”

I tense up at his words. Not on purpose; my stomach dropped and my body just sort of followed suit. It wasn’t in a bad way. It was in a way that felt very much like I couldn’t exactly process the words.

“Sorry.” He mutters, pressing his nose up against my neck softly, touching it to my pulse point. His lips brush my Adam’s apple and I swallow. What time is it? We’ve been here an hour and Daphne was feeding the youngest three. So maybe there’s another hour left until we collect our food from the kitchen.

“We’re alone now.” I point it out even though he knows. We’re alone and mostly will be until tomorrow when Baz has to take Mordelia on her daily walk and listen to her talk about how annoying the youngest three are when she can’t leave the house. Baz keeps saying that his siblings barely leave the house anyway. I’m beginning to think she sees him as more of an older cousin or cool uncle than she does a brother who she can irritate. I’m also not going to point out that’s it’s a little bit ironic that she annoys her older brother while complaining about her younger siblings annoying her. Baz sits further back on my thighs and looks at me.

“I suppose, it’s just… I can live with my family. Three out of four of my siblings are barely sentient, the fourth I actually get on with. Daphne is lovely— too lovely really, I don’t understand her.” He scrunches his nose up in this way that makes him pull a face that I really, really should not find ridiculously attractive, but I do. Everything he does is so gorgeous, even the horrible faces he pulls. Thinking about it, I probably like it because they’re the faces he’d always make back at Watford when we were just roommates who hated each other . “My father just doesn’t talk about uncomfortable subjects, which I can live with, and Fiona does nearly nothing but talk about those subjects, which I can also live with.”

I want to smooth the crease that’s left between his eyebrows after he’s finished. I lift my hands and tangle one in his hair already loosening hair, using the other to brush away the sharp expression on his face. “What about me?” We’ve spent basically seven and a half years sharing a room. I know I’m terrible. We’re sharing a room and a bed most nights even though there’s a room set up for me next door to Baz’s. I had been going to sleep in there but I’d wake up with Baz in the bed too so I’ve started just going to sleep in his room.

Baz sighs deeply and rests his forehead on mine gently, pressing our noses together a little bit at he does. Then his kisses me. Three times. On the lips. Holding my face in his hands. “You’re messy. You watch me eat my food. I put clothes out to wear the next day and then when I wake up you’re wearing them. You hog the duvet. You freak out about the wraiths. My whole family adores you. You don’t pick up your clothes off the bathroom floor. You use two in one shampoo and conditioner.” Every single word sounds condescending and exasperated. Each sentence is punctuated by a kiss to my lips. It’s weird, because even if the way he’s saying the words is normal, the affection they’re being wrapped in is not what would usually accompany what he’s saying, and— Baz is not usually one for bursts of affection. Not ones like this at least. And now it’s me sighing, but because he’s holding one of the gentle kisses longer than the rest.

“Right.” I mumble. I don’t know where he’s going with this. Maybe he isn’t going anywhere and he’s done talking and will now flop back onto my chest and pretend to sleep until Daphne comes to find us so we can take our food up to our room.

“I wouldn’t have it another way, Simon.” He mumbles, a few inches away from my face, but not close enough to feel the breath from his words. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to talk between kisses and make me laugh and make everything feel normal again because it’s been so, so long since things felt normal between us. They never really did and I just want them to. His hands are pushing through my curly hair that is too long, coming across a few knots which pull, but I ignore it because it’s nice. He’s nice. This is nice.

I kiss him, holding the back of his neck in my hands, thumbing gently across the base up to his hairline. Even after everything, hearing Baz say my first name is an insanely rare thing to happen. It always catches me off guard and I never know what the hell to do when he says it. So I break the kiss and say the first thing that comes into my head. “Tyrannus.” He stares at me. I stare back, trying to keep my face as straight and utterly unamused as his, when a hand hits me over the back of the head. “What the fuck?” I mutter, taking my hand from his hair and rubbing the back of my head gently.

“Merlin and Morgana, Snow. Let us have something nice.” He’s shuffled back away from me. Now he’s sat on my knees. They’re above the tiny gap between the sofa cushions and it’s not comfortable at all. It actually hurts a little bit.

“You called me Simon literally just now.” I try and change the angle my legs are at and Baz sits further back, at the opposite end of the sofa, staring across the room darkly. I curl my legs up to my chest, and look at him. Not everyone has self restraint. “Come back.” I say. Maybe I whined a little bit, but if Baz noticed that he didn’t acknowledge it, just pulled the sleeves of his jumper a little further over his hands. Actually I think it’s my jumper, because it’s an old Watford one which definitely never could have fit him properly. I’m pretty sure his family gets his uniform tailored to fit him perfectly.

“I am not going to come back you complete heathen. You called me Tyrannus.” Baz huffs the words at me, sneering, before also tucking his knees up under his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs and managing to hold the hands with my sleeves over to his face, covering the lower half of it.

I straighten one of my legs out and poke his thigh with my toe. He glares at me for a second but doesn’t do anything else. “You called me Simon.”

“If calling you Simon means that you call my Tyrannus then I am never even going to think of doing it again.” The words are muffled by the sleeves covering his nose and mouth. Baz turns his head to me again but this time doesn’t glare. He’s just… looking.

“I won’t call you it. I don’t even know why I did. Just come back.” I stretch my other leg out towards him and poke his ankle with this one. Baz rolls his eyes but squishes himself between the back of the sofa and my side without saying anything. He wraps his arms around my middle and puts his head is on my shoulder. A few minutes pass in quiet apart from the sound of an ABBA song (I think it’s the one Meryl Streep sings to Amanda Seyfried when she’s upset about her growing up. I don’t know. I’ve seen Mama Mia! once, and it was years ago). Then one of the twins starts screaming from somewhere far off, then the other follows suit.

Baz sighs heavily. I snort. One of his legs hooks over one of mine gently and he kicks my foot with his heel.

“What about Basilton?” I say into his hair.

Baz hums in response, but the sound doesn’t tell me an answer because it’s to neutral. “Just call me Baz.” I can feel his jaw move against my shoulder as he speaks. It might have been to conceal that he was smiling but I could still hear it in his voice.

“But is it better than Tyrannus?”

“Snow, I chose basilton over Tyrannus. What do you think?” This time when he spoke his words were slower and he yawned through the last few words. The drawling tone he tried to use didn’t really come through.

I tilt my head and press my lips to the top of Baz’s head and stay still apart from where my hand has come to rest on his upper arm; my thumb is brushing up and down on the sleeve of his jumper. His breathing has slowed slightly in the time since he spoke so I think he’s actually managed to fall asleep. That’s why I barely whisper my next words; he’s a light sleeper. “What about Basil?”

He presses closer to me, which I don’t think I expected. I definately didn’t expect Baz to be awake enough to reply. A few seconds pass and Baz ends up with his face pressed into my neck again, lying on top of me. “It’s nice, Simon.” I reposition my arms to be around his waist, feeling him fall asleep against me and, after mere minutes, I’m nodding off as well. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a lockdown AU But I didn’t actually make that obvious, it’s heavily implied tho. Anyway, it was pretty comforting to write, so thank you for reading!


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